Incentives
by Nikoru-chan
Summary: a very short fic. Robin and Batgirl spend some - for want of a better term - 'quality time.' Please C


Incentives  
  
Disclaimer: Robin, Batgirl, Oracle and Nightwing are the property of DC, Warner Bros., and whoever else. Not me. I'm just using them for a bit. A lawsuit would be a waste of valuable time and capital. Comments and criticism, on the other hand, are always useful and eagerly sought after.   
  
Dedicated to M. Okay, now you've had a dedication, even if it is only for a super-short fic. So, gimme back my copy of The Little Red Book of Doom. You know which one I mean. Study has recommenced, and I need it.  
*..* = thoughts  
**...** = emphasis  
  
  
  
  
It was the roguish grin that attracted her immediate attention. Well, that and the box of cookies. Okay, it was mainly the cookies.  
  
He'd entered the room through the door - not so odd, given that lack of windows in the room. He'd entered the apartment, she suspected, through the roof. Again, not odd. She'd have been a lot more disconcerted if he'd come through the front entrance.   
  
The cookies, though, now **they** were a surprise. To get into the apartment, into the room, he'd have to have gotten past the gatekeeper. And that gatekeeper was ever vigilant, particularly where first-degree murder, international fraud, grand larceny, and junk food were concerned.   
  
He also looked so singularly pleased with himself that she suspected that gatekeeper knew the illicit food was present, but had been bribed or talked off. Fascinated, she tracked his every move. If she could figure out how he'd gotten the stuff past her guard . . .  
  
He plunked himself down on the floor, ignoring the holographic broken table he had to go through to do so. She didn't mind, she'd finished her exercises anyway, though if he was going to make a regular habit of interrupting her training time, she'd have to object, cookies or no. His first words settled that thought to rest.  
  
"Hi! Babs said you were finished in here with your workout, so I convinced her to let me try something with you. Provided, of course, that's okay?" His grin was infectious, and a final shake of the cookie box sealed the deal. She dropped herself onto the floor opposite him. Curiosity was eating her alive - Babs had actually **let** him bring in the verboten junk food? Given her approval for it?!  
  
His grinned widened as he produced a plate from nowhere and ripped open the box. Cookies of all different shapes spilled onto the plastic surface. The shapes seemed oddly familiar. . .*Letters! They're letters! I don't know all of them, but still, I recognise what they are.*  
  
"Here's the deal; we use the letter-cookies to spell words, you read the word, you get to eat it. Oh, and I get to eat the same number of cookies, so I **will** make you do it." His grin, if possible, broadened. She matched it with one of her own.  
  
"You're . . . on, Bird . . .Boy!"  
  
"Great!"  
  
**************  
  
Two hours, and three boxes later, Oracle wheeled into her hologram suite to discover a pair of very giggly bat-kids, sitting in a small pile of debris, a now-pristine plate between them.   
  
"Hi Babs!" Robin gasped out between laughs, "guess what! It worked!"  
  
Still chucking, he turned to Batgirl and, grabbing her outstretched hand, hauled her to her feet. The three of them made their way back into the heart of Oracle's 'lair', and proceeded to show the amazed redhead exactly how much her protégé had learned.   
  
As much as it delighted Barbara, Cassandra's joy at her accomplishment was unparalleled. 'Stop' she had already known, but with Robin she'd revised all her letters, and now knew the alphabet easily. Words still took a little longer, but certain of them - 'policeman', 'taxi', 'money' and 'ransom' amongst others - she already recognised, and laughingly read.  
  
"Wasn't hard, Babs. We just needed to find a good . . . incentive, I guess. There's more to do, though, so no cookie-curfews just yet."  
  
It was twenty minutes later, when Cassandra was slowly spelling out a word on one of Barbara's many screens, when one of her proximity alarms went off. Smiling, she left the tittering pair and wheeled over to the window, allowing Nightwing entrance.  
  
He took the scene in in a glance; a chortling Robin, no sweat, his little brother was often cheerful though less so lately. Nice to see him actually laugh. Barbara smiling, now this was a vision of loveliness. A giggling Batgirl? His mind tracked back to that one. Batgirl? Expressing mirth? More than that, **giggling**? Turning slightly he spotted the cookie boxes through the door of the holoroom. Two packets he could easily discern, and the debris indicated possibly a third.   
  
"How much sugar have you guys had?!" 


End file.
